Man I Hate Camping
by fearlessgoddess2
Summary: Sam and Dean investigate a demonic possession.
1. Prologue

_Two Months Ago…_

Prologue:

Principal Randy Parkman sat at his desk, typing on his computer. He had to get three important emails sent out within an hour, so his fingers typed quickly. There were some kids causing some major trouble at the school, and he needed to have a meeting with the parents. The school mostly communicated with parents by email, which was useful.

There was a knock on the door. "Come in," he said, breaking his stare at the computer.

His secretary, Patricia Sandford, walked in. "Just have the mail for the day," she said, putting down a pile into his IN box.

"Thank you Patricia," he replied. She nodded before she left the room, closing the door behind herself and Randy Parkman continued to type his emails.

The principal didn't notice the black smoke come through the vent of the room and come up behind him. But he noticed when it shoved itself into his mouth and down his throat. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. All he could do was sit, wide-eyed, as the smoke completely entered his body.

After a few seconds, the demon blinked away the darkness in its eyes and continued to type his email.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

_Present day…_

Sam rolled over in bed, hitting his hand on his alarm clock a few times before he found the off button. He sighed, looking around the latest motel he and Dean were staying in, before he brushed some hair out of his face and slid his legs off the bed as he sat up, stretching.

"Dean," he muttered. "Dean, time to get up."

"Bite me," Dean groaned.

Sam rolled his eyes and made for the bathroom, grabbing some clothes along the way. Once he had showered and gotten dressed, he exited the bathroom. Dean was still in bed. "Dean," Sam said loudly.

"What?" Dean snapped.

"We have to get a move-on. Checkout's in fifteen minutes. Otherwise we pay for another night."

Dean let out a sigh before he forced himself out of bed. He was not a morning person. Sam was the one that could get up at five in the morning to get somewhere. Dean was the one that was good with sleeping a day away.

Once the two boys had checked out of the motel and got into the Impala, Sam took out the map of the area to instruct Dean on where to go.

"Where is this place again?" Dean asked, popping in a Metallica cassette.

"Goshen. We're already in Massachusetts. Shouldn't be that long to get to Connecticut." He directed Dean to the highway.

"Put the stupid map away, I got it," Dean told him. Sam ignored his brother, knowing that otherwise Dean would get them both lost otherwise.

"I talked to Bobby this morning, by the way," Sam said.

"He say anything about tracking down that bitch yet?" Dean asked.

"He's got nothing so far," Sam replied, knowing that Dean was talking about Bella.

"Dammit…. I'm gonna kill her," he said simply. "I am going to find her and I'm gonna kill her."

"Dean," Sam said, his voice bordering on a whine.

"Don't even argue with me about that one," Dean snapped.

"It's not that I don't want to, but—."

"Ok, it looks like I have to remind you what's she's done. She's shot you, had no problem with leaving you for _dead_ by taking the rabbits foot, she stole that Hand of Glory from us, then had the nerve to come back and ask for our help, which we gave her, she tipped off Gordon to our location, nearly getting us _killed_, she then stole the Colt, tipped off the FBI and had us arrested and we were nearly killed_ again_ by a swarm of demons, and she had my _car towed_," Dean growled, the last of the list obviously being the worst on his list. "That bitch has been nothing but trouble and she's going to put us in our graves if we don't put her in hers first."

Sam sighed. "Fine. You're right. Eventually she's going to get us killed."

"Thank you," Dean exclaimed. "She's first on my list of priorities. We're still looking for her. This job is just a side gig. So what'd you say, there's demonic omens up the wazoo, right?"

"Yea. Weather patterns, cattle mutilations, blackouts. The blackouts all happened at this school, Litchfield Elementary School," Sam said as he looked through the folder of information he'd compiled from searching on the internet. "Then there was a murder two days ago, a teacher, young woman," he said, grimacing, "found in the back of the school."

Dean gnashed his teeth together. "Okay. So the school's our first stop?"

"That'd probably be best. Electricians will probably work as covers because of the blackouts. We still have the outfits from that bank job, so we can use those."

Dean snorted. "Bank job. Sounds like we robbed the place."

Sam gave Dean a sideways glance. "Uh huh." He paused. "Actually, we'd probably be better of as cops so we could interview people about the murder, then break into the school to check it out."

Dean nodded. "Yea, that sounds good."


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Dean and Sam pulled into the school parking lot and got out of the car. The school day was just ending and the buses had just pulled out of the parking lot, so there were random kids scattered around the parking lot with their parents, getting into cars as they left.

Dean felt a tug at his chest as he saw a boy and his father get into a car. His mind flashed back to Ben and Lisa, and he shoved the thoughts from his mind. He also shoved the thoughts of that dream he'd had of Lisa from his mind. He'd hated that the stupid dream root had showed Sam what was in his head.

Sam started toward the school with Dean close on his heels. They went into the school and into the main office.

"'Scuse me?" Dean asked the empty room. A young woman came down the hallway and into the office, looking between Sam and Dean. Dean gave her a winning smile.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm Special Agent Dean Wilson, this is Special Agent Sam Harvey," Dean said as the two flashed their badges. "We're here about the homicide."

The young lady sighed. "Of course. Principal Parkman is right back here. I'll show you to him."

"Thanks very much," Dean replied as he and Sam followed her. They went down the hallway and she knocked on the door and after a few seconds, opened it.

"Principal Parkman, the FBI is here to talk with you," she said, glancing to the boys.

The man looked up from his paperwork and nodded. "Please, have a seat." Sam and Dean sat in the two chairs in front of his desk as the principal put his paperwork away.

"Field trips are always a lot of paperwork," he said, half to himself.

"Field trip? Where to?" Sam asked, interested.

"Weekend camping trip," he replied. "For some of the older kids. Educational, good to get them into the outdoors and away from video games and television. Maybe take their mind off this…incident."

"Could you tell us who found the body?" Sam asked, taking out his notepad and pen.

"A custodian. Was opening up the school and went out to the back, found her…in the playground," the principal replied, a hitch in his voice. "She was lying on the sand. Blood everywhere."

"Did he see anything else?" Dean asked. "Anyone else at the scene?"

"No," he said.

"Your teachers all receive a full background check before working here, right?" Sam asked.

The principal nodded. "Of course. None of the teachers that work here could have done this. It was just…a horrible scene."

"Christo, you saw the body?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows.

Parkman nodded and Dean noticed that he hadn't flinched, his eyes hadn't turned black. "Unfortunately, yes. The custodian ran into my office for the phone and I ran outside to see what it was. I was in early to file some paperwork. It was…grisly to say the least. Poor woman."

"Have you noticed anything strange?" Sam asked. "Any of the teachers acting odd, the students…."

"Nothing," he replied.

The boys asked questions for a while longer, then left the office.

"Thank you for your time," Sam said as he exited the office after Dean. The principal closed his door after they left.

"So what do you think?" Dean asked quietly.

"Well just because he didn't notice anything strange going on, doesn't mean there wasn't anything strange going on," Sam told him. "He's probably busy, not much time to notice—."

"Excuse me?" said a soft voice from behind them.

Sam and Dean turned around to see the secretary nervously looking at them.

"Hi," Dean said with a smile. "Can we help you with something?"

"It's about…you know. What happened."

Dean's smile remained, but his expression became more serious. "All right."

"Not here," she said quietly. She motioned them into a nearby office, closing the door. "You said you were looking for anything…strange, right?"

"Yea, did you notice something?" Sam asked, raising his eyebrows.

The woman swallowed nervously. "It was actually Principal Parkman. He was acting…really weird like two months ago. And then a few weeks ago again. He seemed scattered, kept forgetting things. Like he forgot all about the camping field trip before I reminded him when it was his idea in the first place. And he was acting differently."

"Like how?" Dean asked.

"Like…I can't quite put my finger on it. He just wasn't himself."

Sam and Dean looked to each other, a silent agreement passing between them.

"Thanks very much for that," Sam said with a comforting smile. "We'll be sure to look into it."

"You don't think…he killed Mrs. Wellford, do you?" she whispered.

"At this point we can't rule anything out, but we really can't talk about it," Sam told her.

She nodded. "All right." At that, the three left the office and the two brothers went outside to their car.

"After half an hour with the principal we randomly get something from the cute secretary," Dean spoke up. "That was lucky."

"We'll check out his office for any EMF," Sam said.

"But he didn't flinch when I said Christo, so what's up with that?" Dean asked.

"I don't know. Maybe he isn't possessed anymore?"

"Well, if the demon did kill the woman, then it's probably going to kill again," Dean said with a grimace. "These things don't just stop at one."

Sam nodded uneasily as he opened the door to the Impala.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Sam and Dean walked to the school from the back, out of the forest, keeping an eye out for anyone out late at night. They quickly found a window to the basement and jimmied it open. The two slipped inside and Dean closed the window behind himself before scanning the basement for what he was looking for: a way to disable any security cameras or motion detectors that might be in the school.

Sam took out his EMF reader, turned it on, and started to move it around. Dean also took a look around the basement at the fuses. Before they looked at anything else, they needed to make sure the wiring for the school was good, rule out anything natural. The blackouts and the murder were the main thing that had the boys focusing on the school. If the blackouts were a fluke and the murder had just been a regular person, they were focusing their efforts in the wrong place.

Once Sam scanned the basement area and didn't find anything and Dean didn't find anything wrong with the wiring, Dean found and disabled the security features the school had, and they headed up the stairs.

"Man, check out the water fountains," Dean said with a smile. "They're totally miniature."

"It's an elementary school, Dean," Sam told him, continuing to scan with the EMF reader.

"I know, it's just funny. I remember when I was that short. I mean you were never that short, you were always Sasquatch, but I remember these days."

"You mean the days of switching from school to school, never making friends, and never making plans to go on field trips because we would probably be gone before they rolled around?"

Dean pursed his lips. He had tried to let Sam be as much of a kid as he could, but his father had done no such thing. Once Sam had found out about what their dad did especially, Sam was dragged into the world of monsters just like Dean had been.

"Let's check the office," Dean muttered. Sam followed him into the main office and down the hallway to the principal's office. After he picked the lock, he went inside and moved the EMF reader around.

"Not getting anything," Sam said.

"Keep going," Dean replied, looking around the office.

Sam moved behind the desk and, when he raised the reader higher into the air, he was surprised when it started to screech slightly, showing two to three red lights. He moved it further and noticed an air vent to his right. When it was moved closer, the EMF reader screeched louder.

"Think I got something," he said, taking out a screwdriver.

Dean turned from the principal's papers on his desk and walked over to Sam, who unscrewed the cover for the air vent and took it off. He reached inside and felt around for something, but found nothing. When he took his hand out however, he froze.

"Dean," Sam said, his voice grave. He showed his hand to Dean, who gnashed his teeth together.

"Sulfur," he murmured.

"This was how the demon came in," Sam told him. "Likely that it went into the principal."

"Okay, but he didn't flinch at Christo, like I said before," Dean noted. "So what, could we be dealing with something so powerful it doesn't? Like how yellow-eyes didn't react to holy water?"

"Maybe. Or maybe it already slipped into someone else," Sam replied, wiping off his hand on his pants before putting the vent cover back on.

"I like your explanation better," Dean said as he turned around and went into the desk drawers to look for anything of interest.

Sam shuffled through the papers and grunted. "Check this out."

Dean looked at the bunch of papers Sam was holding. "What is it?"

"It's stuff for the field trip. The secretary said that he didn't remember planning it, right?" Sam asked.

"Right," Dean said. "So you think the demon snuck into the school and possessed the principal to plan a field trip? Conspiring to educate our students? Doesn't sound like a demonic plan to me."

"Not really, but look at this. This one teacher is taking fifteen kids on a camping trip nearby. This was the one the secretary was talking about. One teacher for fifteen kids is stretching it."

Dean paused. "So the demon plans a field trip, possesses the teacher, then goes out to the woods with fifteen kids," Dean thought aloud. "So what, we thinking something dirty?"

"Or worse," Sam muttered. "Listen to this. 'Children will not be allowed any technology on the field trip so they will connect better with nature.'"

"Cutting the kids off from any help with a no cell phones allowed rule?" Dean asked.

"Maybe," he replied.

"Then what's with the dead teacher in the back of the school?" Dean asked. Just then, he froze. "Sam, I remember something from the crime scene photos. The woman's heel was broken. So she'd run from her attacker."

"Of course she did," Sam replied. "Who wouldn't?"

"But how far did she run was the question," Dean said pointedly. "What if she'd run all the way from the office here? What if it did possess the principal first and she got suspicious about what was going on, started asking questions?"

"What if she saw his eyes turn black?" Sam suggested.

"That's a good one too," Dean muttered. "The demon wouldn't want anyone poking around, so he kills her."

"Dean we got a problem," Sam said suddenly, reading the papers in his hands about the field trip. "That field trip?"

"Yea?"

"It's tonight."


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Dean pulled the Impala over to the side of the dirt road as they saw the sign that read, "Camp Grounds This Way" with an arrow, parking a few spaces away from a large white van. He and Sam exited the car, going around to the trunk and opening it and the extra cover to reveal the arsenal. They took a look over before they took what they needed and, armed and ready, set off into the woods.

They had flashlights with them, but they didn't want to use them unless completely necessary. The two boys let their eyes adjust to the darkness and, with the half moon above them and some stars, they were able to see decently. The flashlights weren't just to see though; they were to transfer silent messages between the brothers of danger.

Sam and Dean each had a shotgun loaded with shells packed with rock salt and they held them up at the ready, taking every noise, every twig snapping, every swish of branches, as a possible attack. They just hoped they weren't too late. Too late for what, they weren't sure, but they knew it could possibly be too late.

Then, Sam heard a promising noise: the quietest of sobs from a child. He froze where he was, the easiest signal to Dean to be alert being by saying nothing. Dean picked up on it almost instantly and Sam motioned with the shotgun toward the left. He led first, Dean close on his heels, and Sam walked through some bushes, his eyes continuing to adjust, and saw a child's shoe barely peeking out from behind an overgrowth of weeds and grass.

Sam turned to his brother and motioned in military hand signals, telling him that he wasn't sure if they were friend or enemy. Dean nodded and signaled to proceed forward. Sam treaded slowly, quietly, up to the bush, and then abruptly swept away what was a huge pile of brush, revealing three young children, two boys and a girl.

The girl screamed and one of the boys clamped his hand down over her mouth, pulling her protectively toward himself.

"Shhshhshh," Sam said gently, lowering his gun. "I'm here to help you. It's all right. You're safe now." The three looked at him doubtfully.

"Sammy?" Dean hissed. "They ok?"

"Looks like," Sam whispered back. "Okay, we need to look for the other kids, make sure they're all right. Do you know for sure how many came?" Sam asked, looking to each of the children's eyes.

Each of them looked to each other before shrugging. The young boy finally took his hand off of the girl's mouth since she'd stopped screaming. "Ms. O'Donald said 15 on the bus," one of the boys whispered.

Sam nodded. "Good. Three down, twelve to go. Come on, come with us. I'm Sam, that's my brother Dean. You'll be safe with us; we have weapons that can hurt the bad guys," Sam said.

"Can I have a gun?" one of the boys asked firmly, holding the girl's hand tightly.

Sam blinked, surprised. "You guys friends?" Sam asked.

"She's my sister," the boy told him. "It's my job to take care of her."

Sam swallowed before reaching into his jacket and taking out a water pistol. "This is holy water. If anything bad comes at you, you squirt. Aim for the face or any exposed skin, okay?" The boy nodded, one hand hanging at his side with the pistol and one in his sister's hand. "You take care of him too ok? Hold onto his arm," he said to the other boy. "You three are a group. Anything happens to one of you, you tell me or Dean, got it? Same goes for anyone else we find."

The kids nodded and Sam motioned them forward, walking behind them, on the alert for any other kids. They managed to find fifteen terrified children hiding scattered around the forest altogether over the course of half an hour. Luckily, they hadn't gone far. One girl Dean particularly liked because she had been smart enough to snatch her small emergency bag. It was small enough to not be a burden, and it had some band-aids, a sandwich, and water.

They brought the kids back to the main camp site that had been set up where, to their astonishment, the teacher lay covered in her own blood. Sam tentatively walked over to the teacher, pulled a gun of holy water, and squirted at her. She didn't burn; it didn't steam. She didn't even flinch.

No, she wasn't alive.

Sam knelt down and felt her pulse, glancing at the woman's slit wrists. He turned to Dean and shook his head. Dean made a _dammit _grimace before Sam stood up and went into what looked like the teacher's bag, took out a blanket, and covered the body with it.

"Is she…dead?" one of the kids gathered enough courage to say.

Sam nodded. "Yea, she's dead."

The kids visibly relaxed. Dean wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. They didn't need to be freaked, but there was still something demonic out there in the forest and they needed to—.

Dean's train of thought crashed to a halt. He looked to Sam, who was sitting down each of the kids on a log around the log fire that had long since burned down to cinders, and hadn't yet caught up to Dean's thought process. Dean discreetly walked around to the last log, which had been reserved for the teacher. Five logs, one for the teacher, four for the fifteen kids to spread evenly on, which they did. Sam also found an electric lantern, which he turned on.

The kids were completely frightened about what was going on. Which made Dean's job difficult. Sam had already sat down on the teacher's log, hands in his lap, trying to look non-threatening as he gave comforting smiles to the kids that were quietly whispering among themselves.

Dean took a deep breath, and spoke, "Excuse me, kids," he said, gently but firmly. They were all instantly quiet and attentive. It was amazing what a little demonic activity could do to make a kid listen to an adult, especially a rescuer. "I need to say something." He looked to Sam, gave him what he hoped was a meaningful look.

Then he said, "…_Christo._"


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

None of the children reacted to the word with anything but a blink of confusion. None of them except one. A young girl that Sam had comforted while she was crying for her mother had never been interested in finding her mother. Or rather, her host's mother. Her eyes blackened and she flinched, then a second later she stood up, Sam quickly with her.

"Nice one, Dean," the little girl said. At her eyes, each of the children panicked, but before they could move, before Sam could even raise his water pistol to shoot at her, each of the children were propelled forward, off their seat on the logs, onto the dirt ground with a thump. Dean and Sam were thrown backwards, pinned instantly to two tree trunks, their weapons falling from their hands.

Some of the children were screaming and Sam could tell that they couldn't move, just like him and Dean. That was one of the cons of dealing with psychic demons. Sam and Dean stared daggers at the possessed girl, trying desperately to get free, get a weapon, to do something, _anything_.

"Sam and Dean Winchester," the girl said. Her voice, though spoken by a demon, retained the eight-year-old's voice. "It's nice to meet you. My name's Amy."

"You know, I'm really not sure how I'm supposed to feel about the fact that everyone seems to know our names and who we are before we introduce ourselves," Dean told her. "Kinda sends off a _stalker _vibe, if you know what I mean."

The demon smiled. "Oh yea, you're definitely Dean. And you're Sam. The boy king. How's that going for you anyway?"

"I'm not king of anything you bitch," Sam growled, straining against his bonds. "Let her go."

"What, you mean this?" she asked, flapping her arms for a second. "Why would I do that? You guys ruined my game, you know. As soon as I heard that one girl scream I knew something was going on. I was going to have so much fun tonight and you just _ruined _it."

"You mean like truth or dare fun or Hannibal Lector fun?" Dean asked, managing to cock his head slightly with the sarcasm.

"Hannibal Lector," it replied without batting an eye. "Without the cannibalism. I don't much like the taste of human flesh. Blood, on the other hand…isn't bad with a meal."

"You disgusting little bitch—." Dean's voice was cut off with the blink of the demon's eyes. His eyes grew wide as he choked, realizing that he couldn't breathe.

"Dean!" Sam cried, forcing the bounds of the prison that wrapped him to the tree to its limits. "No! Stop it! Please!" he begged the demon. He knew that was what it wanted, but there wasn't any other choice.

"He has a naughty mouth," it said innocently, shaking its finger at Dean. "He shouldn't speak to me that way."

"He won't, I swear. Just let him breathe. Please."

The demon looked to Dean with a look of morbid interest in its eyes. Dean's face was starting to blanch and his eyes started to tear as he struggled to get the least amount of oxygen into his lungs.

"Please!" Sam yelled. Trying a different tactic, Sam said, "If you kill him right now, you won't have him later."

The girl cocked her head to the right, thinking for a second, before she nodded. "True." And she blinked at Dean again.

Dean gasped for air for a few seconds before he glared daggers at the girl, Sam letting out a silent sigh of relief. Just as he opened his mouth, Sam jumped in. "Dean, you _idiot_, you keep your mouth shut or you are never going to have the option of opening it again."

Dean blinked at Sam, his eyes narrowing in anger, but closed his mouth.

"That's a good boy," the little girl chirped. Sam knew it took all of Dean's strength not to snap back at that one. "Now where was I? Oh yea, you spoiled all of my Hannibal Lector fun." She walked over to Sam and he flinched as she reached into his jacket, the first thing she found being a short bowie knife. "Oh, this is pretty! Where'djya get it?"

"Home Depot," Sam answered, his eyes narrowed.

The knife seemed odd and out of place in the young girl's hands. "Is it special?" she whispered.

"Special how?" Sam asked, confused.

"That's why I'm so happy I ran into you guys. I've been looking for a special knife for a while. You know what I'm talking about?"

Sam swallowed, glanced to Dean, who gave him a gaze that said _no way._

"Thought so," the little girl said with a smile. "So where is dear old Ruby these days? She's got a lotta people looking to put her head on a platter. Or, rather, her soul back in hell."

"Dean and I work alone. Ruby's just someone we're using to get information," Sam told it.

The girl frowned, a sad expression if it had been sans evil black eyes. "No idea where she is? No phone number for her cell?" Sam's gaze remained a few inches above the girl's head. "I'll take that as a yes. Where is that cell of yours?" Sam's upper lip twitched in anger of his helpless position in the situation. "Now Sam, so I have to go looking for it?" She tapped her chin with the knife. "Maybe one of the kids swallowed it. That would be—."

"My right jean pocket," Sam spat. "It's in my right jean pocket, ok?"

"See, you can be cooperative," it said with a sweet smile. It walked up to Sam, coming within reaching distance if Sam could have been able to move his arms the least bit, and took the cell phone from his pocket. The girl thought for a second before she went into the teacher's backpack and took out some duct tape. She took two strips and telepathically put them on the boys' mouths.

Rage echoed from Dean's eyes, trying to make looks kill, but Sam just thought desperately about how they could possibly get out of this situation. They should have come with backup. They should have set up protective circles to trap the demon before they tested to see which one it was. They should have done something, anything rather than this. But they hadn't had much time.

The girl scrolled through the phone book to the name she wanted and pressed send. "Shh, it's ringing," she whispered. Sam swallowed angrily. "Hello? Is this Ruby…? Yea, my name's Amy. I'm—. Oh no, Sam isn't available right now. I'm looking for—. Oh he's right here, he just can't talk right now. Now about—." Her expression went sour. "I don't like that kind of language young lady. I'm trying to have a pleasant conversation and—." She stopped. "I'll tell you where I am if you'll come here and bring the knife?"

Amy paused. "Yes, that knife….Thank you, Ruby….Fine, I'll send you a picture. How do you take a picture with these darn things?" Amy murmured, examining the phone in her small hands. "Ah." She held the phone up toward Sam and Dean and snapped a picture, pressed the appropriate buttons to send it to Ruby's cell, and then went back to the call. "You should get that soon. We're at the Goshen Camp Grounds in Connecticut. Get here soon or all the excitement might begin without you. Tootles." At that, she hung up the phone, tossing it to the ground. Sam made note of where it landed, just in case he needed it later.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

"So how shall we pass the time while Ruby comes to save the damsels in distress?" the demon asked, putting some blonde hair behind her ear. With a swipe of her hand, the tape that was on the boys' mouths came off. She tossed the knife in the air, catching it easily by the handle. "I trust you two not to anger me. Begging and pleading is fine," she said, a wicked smile flashing across her face. She turned to the children, who were still flat on the ground, whimpering and shaking.

"Eenie, meenie, minie, mo," Amy began.

Sam looked to Dean, who looked positively pissed off, and asked him with his eyes if he had a plan. Dean responded that he was thinking. As brothers, they could tell a lot from facial expressions, which was useful when you're psychically attached to a tree and have a demon that would listen in on your plans.

Sam looked back to Amy, who kept continuing the chant. "Catch a tiger by it's toe." To his frustration, she wasn't taking him or Dean in on the 'game'. One of the kids was going to get hurt. Sam would have definitely taken anything for these kids, but it looks like that wasn't an option.

"If he hollers, let him go."

Sam lightly tested the bindings that pinned him to the tree, but they held firm. It wasn't like rope he could gnaw through or tape he could tear. This was something supernatural that wasn't easily broken, to say the least. But he needed to do something. Anything rather than just stand there, pinned to a tree. He needed to convince her to let him go, that he wasn't a threat.

"My mother says to pick the very best one…"

Sam's eyes darted around, trying to figure something out, when a completely random possibility for a plan popped into his head. He didn't know if she'd believe him, didn't know if it would work, but maybe it could distract her enough to let her guard down.

_Always make your enemy think you're weaker than you really are, so you can take them by surprise._

His father's voice echoed in his mind. Sam decided what he was going to do. He mustered up a lot of tension and rage.

"And you are not—."

"AAGH!" Sam screamed through gnashed teeth, tensing his whole body.

"Sammy?" Dean yelled.

It was key that Dean not know what was going on. Real fear would be in his voice that way. Otherwise he might give it away.

"Ach…my…head…" Sam choked out, eyes closed tightly. "I can't…" He let out another scream, eliciting some screams from the children.

"Sammy! Talk to me!" his frantic brother shouted, straining against the bindings.

"Sam?" Amy asked in interest, leaving the children to come over to him. "What's going on?"

"My head…it's like…when I had…ACH!" he screamed. He pounded his head back against the trunk of the tree and dug his nails into the bark, so violently he drew blood. "Make it _stop_…."

"You _bitch_ are you doing this to him?" Dean shouted.

"Of course not," Amy said distastefully. "I was busy with my game. What's it look like to you?"

"It looks like…." He stopped.

"What? What is it Dean?" Amy asked, walking over to him, ignoring Sam's cries of intense pain and heavy gasps for air. Dean didn't answer. "Dean? This could be important. If there's something wrong with Sam and he needs to get to a hospital, I want to know."

"Hospital, right," Dean exclaimed in disbelief. "I'll believe that when pigs start flying."

"You hold no hope for anything in life, do you?" it asked, walking closer to him. Dean suddenly became very aware of how close the knife in her hand had come to him. "Dean?" He swallowed, staring into the little girl's black eyes. The young girl might have been shorter than Dean, but she was able to put the tip of the blade under his chin and pushed upward. He cringed, moving his chin up with it. "What…is going on…with Sam?" When he didn't answer, she lowered the knife. "Fine."

Then she plunged it into his thigh.

Dean screamed, his fingernails digging into his fists so hard they drew blood, barely able to react to the pain because he was forced to stay upright. He gasped in air, sweat beading on his forehead, dripping down his face, his arms pinned to the tree so he couldn't wipe it away. He slammed his head back into the tree trunk as if the pain would distract him from the stab wound.

By now most of the kids were screaming too, at least the ones that weren't in denial or shock, though they had no idea what was going on. Sam continued to pretend to have the migraine to kill all migraines, knowing that if this was going to work, Dean needed to tell her. Keep her distracted.

"Dean," Amy said quietly, drawing out the word. She still had her hand firmly on the blade and Dean's upper lip twitched nervously. She started to slowly twist the blade in the wound. Dean screamed again and Sam couldn't take it anymore.

"Dean, just tell her!" he choked out.

"Visions!" Dean's voice cracked. Amy let the blade shift back to the normal wound's position and then yanked it out. Dean let out another short cry before just taking quick deep breaths.

"What did you say?" Amy asked angelically.

"Visions," Dean breathed. "Sam…has visions. Ever since yellow-eyes kicked it, they disappeared…but I think he's having another one. Please, he's helpless, he's in pain…I'm with him when he goes through every one of these, please just let me help him!"

"Not likely," Amy snorted.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled, frustrated.

Amy walked over to Sam and then abruptly let Sam drop to the ground. He curled up into a fetal position, clutching his head, groaning. "Darn. Glad I don't have those things," Amy said with a hint of a smile. "That sounds like it hurts."

"Get away from me," Sam moaned.

"What do you see?" Amy asked in interest.

"I'm trying…to figure that out," Sam muttered through gnashed teeth. "It takes a while for these things to become…clear…. Oh God, my stomach…I'm gonna puke—."


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

And at that, Sam got up on all fours, with an open flask of holy water, and pounced on Amy. The demon, completely shocked at the transformation of suffering psychic to aggressive predator, barely registered what was going on before Sam was upon her small form, keeping her mouth open and pouring holy water down her throat.

After forcing all if it in her mouth, trying to get at least some of it past her airway and into her stomach, the demon coughed frantically at the acid-like, barbed feeling of something against her trachea. Then Sam swung his first through the air and hit the girl and she was out like a light.

Released from Amy's psychic hold, Dean fell to the ground with a groan from the wound on his thigh. Sam checked that Amy was still breathing, which she was. After a few deep breaths, he forced himself to his feet and over to the kids. "Everyone okay?" he asked.

The kids slowly but surely sat up off the ground, looking around. "Dean, watch Amy," he snapped and Dean nodded, taking out a water pistol and pointing it at Amy's head. Sam had grabbed something out of his jacket pocket — spray paint — and gone over to a large flat rock that someone at some point had meant to use as a table. He got up on it and, within two minutes, drew a perfect protective circle to contain Amy in.

It was just in time, too, because a few seconds after they tossed her in it, she woke up.

"You bastards!" she screamed, banging on the invisible walls of the circle. "Let me _out of here_!"

"Sam, take care of the kids. I got this," Dean told him, his voice tight from the wound in his leg. Sam nodded. He grabbed his cell phone from where Amy had tossed it and motioned to all of the kids to follow him, which they quickly did. Once they were out of earshot, Dean took out his father's journal and began to recite the ritual.

"Exorcizo te, immundissime spiritus, omnis incursio adversarii—."

"No please," the demon gasped.

"—proditor gentium, incitator invidiae, origo avaritiae, causa discordiae…."

The girl's head began to yank left and right abruptly and she began to shake violently. "No!" she screamed. "You can't do this!"

"Sequentes cruces fiant in fronte obsessi. Recede ergo in nomine Patris et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Da locum Spiritui Sancto, per hoc signum sanctae Cruci Jesu Christi Domini nostril. Qui cum Patre et eodem Spiritu Sancto vivit et regnat Deus, Per omnia saecula saeculorum."

"Noooooooo!" came the roar from the girl, quickly turning inhumane as the demon smoke expelled from her mouth and into the sky, converging in on itself and disappearing into a bit of fire and smoke.

Dean leapt forward to catch the young girl before she hit the ground. He took her over to the grass and lay her down, checking her pulse. It seemed that his own heart restarted when he realized that she was alive. "Hey…hey it's okay, you're safe," he whispered. "You're safe now."

The girl coughed once, looked around, and then her eyes went wide and suddenly teared. Dean took her hand, but she yanked it away. "Wh-what…."

"It's gone," he told her in his gentlest voice. "It's never going to hurt you again. I promise."

At that, the tearful girl jumped up and grabbed Dean around the neck in a hug, sobbing. "I was so scared. I was me but I _wasn't_ me and _it_ was me. I did all…those things…and—." Her words broke off into sobs.

"It's okay," he told her. "Just let it all out. You're safe now."


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

The girl sobbed for a good minute straight before she started to get tired and, with a sniffle, drew back. She drew her sleeve across her nose and looked up to Dean.

"What happened to me?"

Dean froze. How the hell was he supposed to explain possession in a way that she would understand and her parents wouldn't use to send her to a mental institution? How old was the girl, and what did that mean for the explanation he had to give?

He took her hands in his. "What's your name?"

"Lissa," she whispered. "I don't know why I said it was Amy."

"My name's Dean."

"I stabbed…you," she choked out, staring at the blood leaking from his leg.

Dean slowly but firmly shook his head. "No you didn't. Something was controlling you."

"What?" she asked.

"I'll tell you, but if you tell your anyone, they're going to think you're crazy. People don't usually know about this kind of stuff. It's scary, so they pretend that it isn't real. Do you want me to tell you that you imagined it all? That it was all made up? Cause I can do that if you want."

Lissa hesitated for a few seconds. "I…I want the truth," she said, suddenly firm. "I'm a big sister. It's just us and my mom. If there are things that people pretend aren't real cause they're scary, then I should know about them so I can protect my mom and sister from them."

Dean showed a shadow of a smile of pride. Then he became serious again. "It's a monster called a demon."

"Monsters are real?" she whispered.

Dean closed his eyes and nodded. "I hate that I have to tell you that, but yea." He looked back up to her. He reached into his pocket and took out an amulet necklace. "Here," he said, putting it around her neck and tucking it under her shirt out of sight. "Wear that and you can't have a demon in you. You can keep it."

"What happened to the demon that was in me?"

"I got rid of it. I sent it to the place where demons belong."

"Are there more?"

"There are more. But the reason they stay such a secret is because not many people run into them. They try to stay hidden. So don't live your life always being afraid, okay? That necklace will always protect you from being possessed, having a demon in you, and if you ever need protection from anything else, use salt."

"Salt?" Lissa asked.

"It keeps away spirits and demons. Demons can't cross over salt lines. If you make a circle of salt and stand in the middle, a demon can't get to you. If you line a window with salt, a demon can't get through that window. Also, silver and iron tend to work pretty well as weapons. That's all you need to know to protect your little sister, all right?"

Lissa swallowed. "You sure?"

"I really don't think you're every going to have to deal with anything like this ever again, but if anything ever happens…." Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out a card that said his first name and cell number, handing it to Lissa. "You call that number, okay?"

Lissa held the card in both hands for a second before nodding and tucking it securely in her pocket. "Okay," she whispered.

"Now even though these things are real, other people will think you are cuckoo for cocoa puffs if you tell them, ok?"

Lissa smiled. "I can keep a secret." She looked up to Dean. "Thank you for saving me," she said, and gave him another hug.

"Oh one more thing," Dean said, pulling back. He cringed as he tilted her head slightly to look at the bruise the punch had made when Sam had hit Amy to knock her out. "You slipped and fell on a big rock. Total klutz. Okay?"

Lissa grinned. "I'm a total klutz."

"Let's go make sure everyone else is okay," Dean said, holding out his hand, which she took. Dean led them down the path, limping, and soon came upon Sam and the kids, the kids all huddled in a group.

"Lissa's all better, guys," Dean said, hoping for a good reaction, wondering what Sam had told the kids.

"Lissa!" squealed a few girls that ran over to give her a hug. "Your eyes are better!"

"Yup," she replied. "Dean saved me from the…yea, Dean saved me." Lissa looked up to the young man and smiled. He gave her a small smile back.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:

"Okay, so guys, whey you get home, nobody can tell the grown-ups or police what happened here tonight, okay?" Sam said.

"Why not?" one of the boys asked. "It was scary. Police deal with scary stuff."

"Because Dean and I also deal with scary stuff. This one was our kind of scary stuff. And because grown-ups aren't as smart as kids," Sam told them. "They'll think that you made everything up. They'll think you're lying to them and won't believe you. Now. Everyone's safe, right?" Each of the little heads bobbed up and down. "Lissa got a little hurt, but that was so we could save her, so she's ok too right?" More bobbing. "So everyone's okay?"

"'Cept Dean," one of the boys pointed out.

"Eh, he doesn't count," Sam said jokingly. Some of the kids tittered and Dean glared. "Nobody else here is hurt right?" Each of them shook their heads. "All right. Does anyone have a problem _not_ telling their parents what really happened tonight and going along with a story I came up with that will make everything make sense?"

They each turned to each other and murmured among themselves for a moment. Sam turned to Dean and they shrugged, waiting until the kids stopped talking.

"I think we're okay with it," one boy replied.

"Okay. So here's what we're going to say happened. You came out camping with Ms. McKinley, and…she killed herself." He paused. "You guys panicked and ran for the road. Lissa tripped, fell on a rock. Dean and I were driving by and found you. We're going to call the police right now and tell them that's what happened and that they need to have someone come get you, okay?"

"Okay," echoed a few kids.

"Sam? You make the call? I'm heading to get the med kit if you don't mind," Dean said with a grimace as he limped past Sam. "Call Ruby too."

Sam smiled as he took out his cell phone. "No problem. Come on guys, we're going to head back to the road." He motioned everyone forward, counting fifteen heads, before following to make sure nobody got left behind. He dialed Ruby's number and waited as it rang.

"Listen you bitch—," Ruby started.

"Ruby it's me," Sam interrupted.

"Well thank God," she snapped. "I was just thinking I was going to have to come all the way out there and save your ass again."

"We're fine. I mean Dean's a little worse for the wear, but we're fine. You know we have gotten out of tough situations before you came along to rescue us from them."

"I'm glad. Later." At that, she hung up and Sam blinked before dialing 911.

"911 emergency, what is your location?"

"White Memorial Camp Grounds, Litchfield, Connecticut."

"What's your emergency?"

"Yea, my brother and I were driving through town with the windows down, going up Litchfield road and heard screaming coming from one of the forests. We went to see what was going on and turns out there was a camping trip, one teacher and fifteen kids, and the teacher killed herself it looks like. She's definitely dead."

"It was suicide?" the operator confirmed.

"Yea. Slit her own wrists. We have all the kids here, safe, we're heading to where we parked our car, at the front of the camping grounds. Everyone is staying away from the crime scene. Police can meet us here."

"And your name sir?"

"My name? Sure, it's—." Sam closed his cell phone. "'kay, Dean, time to beat it," he called to him. "We've got maybe 2 minutes. We passed the station on the way here and it's close."

"I'm fine for now," he said, closing the trunk and walking with a limp, his stab wound wrapped up with bandages. "Okay everyone. There are fifteen kids here now. There will be fifteen kids her when the police get here, okay? Cause we gotta motor." The kids nodded.

"Why can't you stay to talk to the police?" Lissa asked. "Tell them how you…." She stopped, realizing what she was saying.

"That's kinda like trying to make gasoline become friends with fire. When they go together, bad things happen. So Sammy and I gotta beat it. It's been real." At that, they heard the faint sound of sirens and Sam dashed around to the front passenger's seat and got inside, as Dean took out his keys and got inside with a two finger salute to the other kids.

They exited the campgrounds, turned left and went down the road. With another left and going down a hill, the police just missed them as three cruisers came up through the entrance, sirens going and lights flashing. They drove into the parking lot, where all of the kids were standing, some crying, some relieved, others not really knowing what to feel.

Lissa fingered the card she had in her in her jean pocket. She'd already memorized the number. She felt special, knowing that there were things out there that other people didn't know about, but still horrified that they did exist and wished that she could just wake up. But when she didn't, when the dream continued, it became clear that it wasn't a dream.

Protect her sister and mother. That's what she had to do. What was that Spiderman slogan? _With great power, comes great responsibility_. Lissa nodded. She could do that. She could take responsibility with the power she'd been given. The power of knowledge that she really would rather not have known was out there, but now knowing it was, was glad Dean had told her.

Police officers jumped out of their cars, trying to keep order in the chaos that had begun as soon as the officers got there and the kids realized they were finally safe. Lissa was the only one not crying. She figured she'd done enough crying for one day. All she wanted to do was figure out, if something happened, how she was going to explain that lining the windowsills with salt would keep away anything. Lissa fidgeted with the amulet necklace that Dean had given to her. She wasn't sure what it was, but it looked cool. As she tucked it under her shirt, she swore then and there never to take it off.

And to find someone who could make some for her sister and mother.

As Sam and Dean rode in the Impala down the long dark stretch of road, with no current destination in mind, Dean finally spoke up a few minutes later.

"Man I hate camping."


End file.
